where's your manual?

i think because i can't know if i've fallen in love
with your words and the steady and thoughtful rhythm in which you write
pieces and particles and moments of a life you lead and sometimes don't but wish you could and can and do
i think you mean more to me than i will let myself know
because i like the emptiness that comes with a single security blanket
i want to scream and tell you how i feel but won't

later on my death bed will reek of things i let pass me by
it'll reek of you
and others will stand around and wonder what happened to one they thought they knew
whose smile hide a town of lies
and whose own disguise she felt melded to
i often think of you
at night during the day when i'm out when everything else has gone away
and i think of your eyes
that colour blue
and the way i can't look at them for too long without feeling flustered and confused
about you
about you

(photo by sarah)